


A Bit of Extra Cargo

by losyanya



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Noah's Ark, OR IS IT, Pre-Arrangement (Good Omens), Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), i write secrets not tragedies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losyanya/pseuds/losyanya
Summary: Noah's Ark is large. There's space for secrets - which is a good thing all around.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33
Collections: Name That Author Round Five: After Dark Redux





	A Bit of Extra Cargo

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Name That Author Round 5: After Dark event.  
> Prompt: "There is a door that should never be open. It's open.", 500 words or less.  
> Many thanks to [werebear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebear/profile) for beta reading and encouragement! Also thank you to the GO-Events Discord server, for providing a welcoming and supportive community for me to try my hand at fic writing.

The spirit of survival permeates the hustle and bustle of the great boat, but that is only a temporary objective. Noah’s mission goes far beyond weathering the catastrophe — it is, rather, to repopulate in the aftermath. To that purpose, a room deep in the bowels of the ship has been filled with the implements of rebuilding, various supplies that need not see light until the hull meets new land, and long sealed off. The room safely stores what is yet to become essential.

The lock is missing. No one would say what happened to it. A heavy, bulky thing; well, it must have just been set down somewhere. It’s hardly of importance; nothing here is of necessity during the journey, and no crewman has come by for a long while. Even if one were to wander near, their glance would slide right over, without catching on the unlocked door.

Nor would they be startled by the faint sound of children laughing.

Rather, they would remember some urgent matter, commanding their return to the upper decks.

No one on the boat would say how this came to be. Definitely not the white linen-clad man-shaped being, adored by each member of Noah’s family, even as they cannot pinpoint the specifics of his kinship. Yes, certainly, in assisting the chosen household he’s learned every nook and passageway of the vessel. But he’s been so busy aboard, calming the animals spooked by the approaching storm, gracing the sails with a passing touch; he could not possibly have notified the local orphans of the impending disaster and the improbable shelter.

(“Surely there is little harm in it. If not punishing the Chinese or the Australians, surely the Almighty is not more upset with a few rootless young ones, without parents to impart unto them… whichever behaviors had sparked the ire. Still. Best not to speculate”).

Nor would one learn much from the sole one-of-a-kind snake on board, negotiating spare space with the similarly mate-less unicorn. He snuck onto the boat at the last minute, expertly avoiding human eyes, but for all his wiles could not have guided a gaggle of kids through, or disposed of the lock. Not to shift the blame, though; the snake would delicately skirt implications that whoever is responsible for guarding the boat may be incompetent at restricting entry or is habitual in losing large metal objects (although an observer skilled at reading snout expressions might detect some amusement and awe). A mystery for the ages, these unaccounted-for children. An acquaintance of his, the snake supplies, might even call it ineffable. 

With the great boat already holding eight humans and thousands of animals, it’s easy to hide a bit of extra cargo. 

An inquisitive mind, full to the brim with questions that should never have spilled forth.  
A bastion of faith that should never have cracked open its gates to entertain such questions.  
A shared secret, born of un-godly kindness, that should never be spoken of aloud.  
Or.... should it?


End file.
